


Tiger-Striped Sky

by LilPotterfanfic



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Animal Death, Animals, Animals in Danger, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Anya is oblivious, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Jealousy, My First AO3 Post, OCD- obssessive compulsive disorder, Possessive Behavior, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Separation Anxiety, Sexual Harassment, Snow leopards, Snowball Fights, Steve is jealous, Tigers, Zoo, animal smugglers, may or may not have been inspired by tiger king, mentions of animal abuse, natasha encouraging steve's crush, natasha thinks it's hilarious, steve has a big old crush, tortoises
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:28:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23635342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilPotterfanfic/pseuds/LilPotterfanfic
Summary: Four years after the Snap, Steve and Natasha find themselves desperate for a mission and respond all-too-happily to a threat at the Bronx Zoo. While guarding the tigers against a dangerous animal smuggling ring, Steve finds himself drawn to zookeeper, Anya, a young woman almost as wild as the animals she cares for. Anya is elusive and chaotic, Steve is desperate and broken, and Natasha is having too much fun watching Captain America pursue a woman who seems almost oblivious to the effect she has on him.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 24





	1. Here There Be Tigers

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this happened! I've never posted on AO3 before, but quarantine has me all kinds of crazy. This work may or may not have been inspired by a mix of "Tiger King" on Netflix, Animal Planet's "The Zoo", and reading too many dirty Chris Evans fanfictions. Enjoy!
> 
> Steve and Natasha respond to their first serious mission since the Snap, and find something more dangerous than just a tiger at the Bronx Zoo.

Anya started her Monday morning by examining a giant tiger turd.

“It’s darker,” she decided. “Definitely darker than usual. And drier.”

Collin, the keeper unfortunate enough to be on morning patrol with her, sighed deeply and tapped the pooper scooper against the dewy grass. “It’s day-old shit, Anya. It’s fine. Katya’s fine.”

“Do you think I gave her too many rat-sicles yesterday?”

“How many did you give her?”

“Two, but she was being such a sweet lady!”

“I'm sure it’s fine, Anya. Can we please move on?”

Anya bit her lip, then nodded and shoved her hands in her hoodie pocket while Collin scooped the poop. The sun had just risen over the Bronx Zoo, and candy-colors painted the sky. Surrounded by lush, exotic greenery and outcroppings of rock (perfect for tiger-sunbathing), Anya would have thought she was in the jungle if it weren’t for the ever-present, New York sound pollution whistling along the wind: sirens, car horns, yells and crashes, and closer, the barking of the sea lions in the center of the zoo.

For the next thirty minutes, Anya and Collin combed through the tiger exhibits, collecting poop, checking for any possible hazards, and setting up activities for the tigers. They were nearly done with the Malayan Tiger enclosure when Anya’s walkie talkie buzzed:  _ “Hey, it’s Jim. Anya to Administration, please. Anya, could you come to Administration? Confirm please.” _

Collin frowned as Anya unhooked the walkie from her belt and replied, “ This is Anya! Just finishing up on Tiger Mountain and I’ll be down. Over!”

“What do you think Jim wants?” Collin asked.

Anya shrugged. “Probably help with some wild cats in Queens or something. I wouldn’t worry about it.” As a senior keeper specializing in large cats, Anya was used to summons from the zoo’s director. “I’ll tell you if it has to do with you.” 

Collin was reluctant to hand over the keys to the golf cart, but he did anyway. Anya wondered about him as she drove herself down to the Administration Building. He’d been at the zoo for three months, but already was possessive of the golf carts; he insisted on driving anywhere and everywhere. Collin was a weirdo. But so was Anya-- so were most of the zookeepers. Collin would get the hang of things eventually.

Clyde, the alpha male sea lion, was barking up a storm when Anya parked in front of the Administration Building. It was barely past sunrise, and the sea lions had just been let out onto their exhibit. Anya waved at Clyde as she passed.

“Hang in there, bud,” she told him. “Your admirers will be here soon.”

Clyde preened in the thin rays of weak sunlight and barked, and Anya turned into the Administration Building, buzzing herself in with the key card on her belt and giving a perky wave to the receptionist, Lexie. 

“Hey, Mr. Breheny!” Anya called cheerily. “What’s crack-a-lacking?” 

She bounced into Jim’s office and came to an abrupt stop because standing over the desk was--  _ Holy shit, that’s Captain America. _

* * *

It had been so damn long since they’d had a mission like this, Steve almost forgot where to start. Get the facts, figure out the bad guy, figure out a plan, execute, don’t die. Easy.

(Only it hadn’t been easy with Thanos, or Rumlow, or HYDRA, or Hitler, or anyone. Ever.)

Natasha was thrilled. She was barely holding back her smile as she explained the situation to the Bronx Zoo director, Jim Breheny. Steve couldn’t blame her. Life had been one endless drag of no-battles since the Snap. Since their last battle. Since they’d failed.

Besides Steve and Natasha, Jim’s small office was occupied by his wife, Kathleen, the head of the Animal Ambassador Program, and Keri, the head of the Big Cat Program. They were waiting for one more, and judging by the barking coming from the incessant sea lion outside, whoever it was had just arrived. 

Steve’s enhanced hearing caught the door “woosh”ing open and boots against the hardwood floor. The office door clacked open, and one of the most beautiful women Steve had ever seen came rushing in with a cry of, “Hey, Mr. Breheny! What’s crack-a-lacking?”

The woman skidded to a stop when she caught sight of Steve, and he had a moment to get a good look at her: An abundance of freckles smattered across flushed, tanned skin. Thick, dark, glossy, sun-streaked curls piled on top of her head. Toned, scratched-up legs revealed by khaki shorts. And the biggest, brightest, bluest eyes Steve had ever seen.

_ Holy shit, _ Steve thought.

“Holy shit,” the woman said. “You’re Captain America.” She flushed deeply and hastened to add, “Sorry. That was rude. I’m Anya Barislovski.” She shook Steve’s hand first, and then Natasha’s, who she stared at for a long second and then said, “And you’re the Black Widow. Mr. Breheny, why are the Avengers in your office?”

Jim, a tired-looking, short, dumpy man, sighed deeply and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his crooked nose. “Anya,” he said in a long-suffering voice, “I’ve told you a million times. Just call me Jim, kid.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Breheny.” 

Another deep sigh. “Anya, Captain Rogers was just explaining the situation. Take a seat, kid. You had coffee yet?” 

“Yes.” 

“Have some more coffee.” 

Kathleen fetched the coffee pot and poured some into a zebra mug which she handed to Anya, stroking her cheek for good measure. “Good morning, dear.” 

Anya smiled and took a sip, nodding at Keri, who was wiry and older, with short blonde hair, almost the same height as Steve. “Morning, Keri. Can you guys please tell me what’s going on?”

Natasha nudged him. Steve hadn’t realized he was staring, and so, a little embarrassed, he cleared his throat and explained, “Our network picked up on a possible attack on the Bronx Zoo by an animal smuggling ring. I’m sure you’re familiar with the Lures?”

There was a perceptible change in attitude at the mention of the prolific animal smuggling gang. Anya’s fingers tightened around her mug, Keri’s fists clenched, and Kathleen actually let out a hiss of anger. Jim cleared his throat awkwardly before saying, “We’ve rescued a few animals from them, yes.” 

“Our sources have led us to believe they’re going to be making an attempt to take one or more of your tigers,” Natasha piped up. “Particularly the more endangered species. Captain Rogers and I will be keeping an eye on the situation around here until the threat is negated.” 

The women, in particular, looked stricken at the news, and Steve suspected that the only reason Jim didn’t look more upset was that he’d been informed of the situation beforehand.

“We figured our lead tiger keepers should know,” Jim explained, “so you could explain to the other staff what’s going on without frightening anyone.” 

Keri fixed him with a look of disbelief. “It’s the Lures, Jim,” she said plainly. “The staff will be frightened of them no matter what.” 

Anya, who had frowned her way through the briefing, set her mug down (and good Lord, it was already empty?) and asked, “What can we do to help?” 

“Give us access to the zoo,” Natasha said before Steve could. “Show us around. Keep us updated on anything odd or unusual you notice.”

“It can be anything! Nothing’s too small,” Steve added because he felt he had to say something.

Kathleen’s hands were fluttering anxiously, but she smoothed them down her pink jeans and forced a smile. “Alright then,” she chirped. “We’ll treat you two as VIP guests. Give you the grand tour and everything. Anya, why don’t you introduce them to your boyfriend?”

Anya nodded eagerly and jumped to her feet, and Steve tried to shake off the ridiculous disappointment he felt at hearing that she had a boyfriend.

“Sure!” she said and grinned. “Yeah, sure. VIP guests. That sounds fun.” Then she smiled at Steve and  _ gosh her eyes are blue _ . “Come on. I’ll take you to meet Ivan.” 

Anya led Steve and Natasha back through the Administration building and out into the main square of the zoo, where the giant sea lion started barking at them.

“Clyde,” Anya chided in a too-affectionate voice. “Cut it out. You’re being rude.” She shot the two Avengers an apologetic grin. “Sorry about him. He gets a bit too big for his britches sometimes. Really likes being the Alpha male.” 

Natasha jokingly rolled her eyes. “Men, am I right? Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.” 

It was a poor joke, but Anya laughed anyway and pointed at a golf cart. “I’ll drive you up to Tiger Mountain.”

“Shotgun!” Natasha chirped and sent Steve a wink as she took her seat. Damn it all. She was too good at reading him. 

Anya kept up a running commentary as she drove them through the Bronx Zoo, pointing out her favorite enclosures and exhibits, and waving at every keeper she came across. “We’re kind of a tight-knit group around here,” she explained. “Hard not to be when we spend all our time together. Funny how scooping poop bonds you with a person.” 

Steve couldn’t see Natasha, but he imagined she was probably raising her brows when she said, “You guys scoop a lot of poop?”

“It’s most of the job when you're starting out, yeah,” Anya admitted. “But it’s also a lot of keeping the animals entertained, trying our best to stimulate natural behaviors. We do a lot of research, too, to try and help conserve the animals in the wild.” 

Steve found himself asking, “You don’t take any from the wild?”

“God, no!” Anya sounded scandalized by the question, and Steve almost regretted asking, it seemed to upset her so bad. “Zoos haven’t done that since the thirties. At least not legit zoos. All of our animals have been born in captivity-- the ones that weren’t bred in zoos were rescued from private traders or smugglers. People like the Lures and the ‘private zoos’ they do business with.” 

They were passing a sign that read “Tiger Mountain” as she talked, and she drove them past empty enclosures and through a gate that she opened using a key card on her belt. “Have you guys gotten one of these yet?” she asked. “You’ll need one to get around backstage at the park.” 

“Not yet,” Steve said. “Mr. Breheny said he would get us passes by the end of the day.”

Steve saw Anya’s dark head bob up and down, and the golf cart parked in front of a huge, industrial-looking building. “Welcome to base camp,” she said as she hopped off the cart. “We keep the tigers in here overnight, or while we’re cleaning their enclosures.” 

Base camp was a huge, cinder block building with loading docks and chain-link tunnels leading into the enclosures. Anya buzzed her way in through the human-sized door and stepped aside to let Steve and Natasha in before her. The smell was the first thing that hit Steve: musty like a stable, but saltier somehow. As the door opened, a growl echoed down from the dimly-lit hallway. Anya smiled apologetically.

“That’s Nikita,” she said. “She’s about to go into estrus, so she’s a little touchy right now. None of the tigers like outsiders in their den space, though, so sorry if you get growled at. Don’t worry though. None of them can get to you.” 

Steve found himself nodding. Compared to some of the aliens they’d faced, a territorial tiger was the least of his and Natasha’s worries.

Steve examined the halls as Anya led them down it, explaining the rooms behind each door: a food prep room, some offices, bathrooms, a workshop, and a storage room. There were no windows, and security cameras every few feet. 

“Besides yourself and the other keepers, who has access to this building?” he asked.

Anya bit her lip as she thought. “The directors,” she answered slowly, “and the veterinarians, on an as-needed basis. Same goes for the enclosure architects. Security can scan new passwords onto your key cards depending on where you need to go, but either Keri or I have to approve any new entries.”

“Any janitor staff?” Natasha asked.

Anya shook her head before Natasha finished speaking. “No,” she said. “Interns and junior keepers clean backstage. The animals have sensitive noses. Too many new people in the den space freaks them out. The janitorial staff only goes in spaces open to the public, never base camps.”

That was good. Anyone in or out of the tigers’ space would be registered digitally, which left a lot less room for error, a lot less room for someone to break in. 

Natasha continued, “And do the tigers ever leave this space or the enclosure?”

“Not often,” Anya told them. “Most veterinary business is done in here, but if something bad happened-- like a broken bone or an injury or something-- we’d have to put them under and take them to the vet center across the park. It’s a big ordeal, so we only do it when we absolutely have to. There’s a few acres of running space we let them out on on a rotating schedule, but always under supervision, and staff are at the park basically twenty-four seven. There’s never a moment where the tigers are really alone.” 

“Good,” Natasha said. “That makes our job a bit easier.” 

And it did. Steve wondered if, four years earlier, the Avengers would have even taken this job. Probably, they’d have sent an agent or two from S.H.I.E.L.D to keep an eye on things for a week or two, certainly not two of the original Avengers. But times had changed and missions were scarce. It was easier to pay attention to the smaller issues now: Issues like animal smuggling rings and zoos and tigers and Anya, who Steve was forced to admit was a very attractive girl.

“Alrighty,” she said as she stopped in front of a thick, metal door and pressed her key card to a panel. “Fair warning. Here there be tigers.” 

* * *

Anya was trying not to feel too awkward as she gave the Avengers their tour. She wasn’t star-struck, exactly, had never had time to keep up with the heroes and their escapades the way her mother had. But still, it felt odd to lead Captain America and the Black Widow around her zoo like they were keepers. Didn’t they have more important stuff to focus on? Like, end-of-the-world type stuff? 

Sure, there hadn’t been any alien battles or big terrorist attacks since the Snap, but surely they had bigger things to focus on than one or two tigers?

Not that Anya wasn’t happy they were there! She would die before letting something happen to her animals. But still. It was just… odd.

The tiger holding area smelled almost like a stable: straw, poop, and animal; but the tiger scent was a bit sharper than horse musk, and stables typically didn’t smell like meat. From an outsider’s point of view, Anya knew it looked sad: Cinder block walls, no windows, dim lighting and barred holding pens that looked more like cell blocks in a prison. But Anya also knew that the tigers loved their holding pens. Each one was equipped with clean straw, soft blankets, toys, and tables for the tigers to jump up on or curl up under. They lived there at night with their mates or children and trained with their keepers every morning for chunks of prime, bloody steak. Getting them out of the pens and into their enclosures every day was almost hard sometimes.

Anya felt a flash of sadness as she lead the Avengers into the Siberian tiger den. Their population had been decimated by the Snap-- more so than any other zoo in the States. They were left with two, older females and one young male, and it was this young male that Anya stopped in front of.

“Ivan,” she called, “come meet the Avengers.”

There was a low growl from the depths of the pen. Ivan had been curled up under the table, but at Anya’s call, the biggest tiger in the world stepped into the light at the front of his pen. 

One of the Avengers gasped behind her. Anya couldn’t blame them. Weighing in at eleven feet long and three-hundred-forty-eight pounds, Ivan would have been terrifying even without his long, sharp fangs, which he was currently baring at the two strangers in his den. His coat was a vibrant, glossy orange, fluffing up into a thick ruff around his neck, which Anya was rather proud of. 

He was her pride and joy, and Anya, who had hand-reared him after he lost his mother to the Snap, was the only keeper he allowed even close to him. Anya’s friends at the zoo joked that he was her “boyfriend”. They weren’t far off-- Ivan occupied most of Anya’s thoughts and concerns throughout the day.

He let out a growl and Anya cooed soothingly; “That’s very rude, sir. And you know that’s not how we talk to new friends.” 

Ivan chuffed at her, growled unhappily in the back of his throat, and then pressed his face to the bars, chuffing and rubbing himself against the fence. At the end of the day, he was basically just an overly large house cat. Or at least Anya liked to think so. 

“That’s a good boy,” she told him, then turned to the Avengers, who were staring at her like she had just grown an extra head. “This is Ivan,” she told them. “He’s our only male Siberian tiger-- one of six in the USA. He also happens to be the biggest recorded tiger in the world at the moment.” 

Captain Rogers opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. Anya thought he was blushing. Weird. “ _ This  _ is your boyfriend?”

Now Anya was the one blushing. “It’s a dumb joke,” she explained hastily. “He lost his mom during the Snap.” Natasha stiffened at the reminder. “It was earlier in my career here, and I ended up hand-raising him. We’re basically best buds.” 

Ivan yowled at this. Captain Rogers jumped, and Anya giggled. “He’s just grumpy because he’s not getting attention,” Anya told them around her laughs. “And he’s in the pen anyway. He can’t hurt you. But it is breakfast time. I’ll show you how we train him.” 

Point training was harder than usual with two superheroes hovering over her. Ivan didn’t like doing his exercises around strangers and was particularly ornery around Captain Rogers, who Anya suspected he registered as a competing Alpha male. 

Natasha laughed when Anya mentioned this. “Isn’t that something,” she joked. “It’s almost like the first time he met Tony.”

Captain Rogers still seemed wary of Ivan, but he forced a smile that made Anya understand why he’d been named People’s Most Eligible Bachelor three years in a row (according to her mom, at least). “Ivan is slightly more aggressive than Tony,” said Captain Rogers. “And notably bigger.” 

“He’s really the biggest tiger in the world?” Natasha asked.

Anya nodded, before checking her watch and unclipping her walkie talkie from her belt. “Yeah,” she said. “Hold on just a second-- Anya to Collin. Anya to Collin. Are we clear to let the Siberians into the enclosure?” 

A second later, there was a cut of feedback followed by: “ _ Yeah, this is Collin. We’re clear for tigers.”  _

Anya nodded and re-belted her walkie. “Yes,” she said again to Natasha. “As far as we know, Ivan is currently the biggest tiger in the world. And he’s very arrogant about it, too.” To Ivan, she said, “Alright, bud. Time to hit the road. Let’s go.” 

Ivan purred in answer, satisfied from his steak breakfast, and Anya pressed the button that opened a door to the tunnel that would lead to the Siberian enclosure. He chuffed at her. Anya rolled her eyes and said, “Katya will be out with you in a minute, you big baby. Go on. I’ll see you later today.” 

As if he could understand her, Ivan chuffed one last time before scampering through the tunnel and into the enclosure. Anya closed the gate behind him.

Natasha and Captain Rogers watched all of this with carefully neutral expressions, but Anya could imagine they probably thought she was insane. Oh, well. Captain Rogers seemed deep in thought.

“If he really is the biggest tiger in the world,” he said carefully, “and Russian tigers--”

“Siberian,” Anya corrected automatically.

“Siberian tigers are endangered…”

“They are, since the Snap.”

Captain Rogers flinched before he continued. “Then it’s very likely that Ivan is the Lures’ target.”


	2. Tortoise Crossing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya's day off veers off the tracks, and she and Steve have a talk about the Snap.

It was only three pm and Anya was ready to  _ explode. _

The past two weeks had been relatively normal at the zoo: As relatively normal as it could get with two superheroes shadowing her every move. For the most part, she enjoyed showing them around behind the scenes. Natasha adored the cats almost as much as Anya did, particularly the snow leopards, and the elderly Siberian tiger, Nikita, who was the fiercest animal they had at the zoo. Captain Rogers, on the other hand, gave all of Anya’s charges a wide berth, particularly Ivan, who didn’t seem to like him that much.

Captain Rogers was a strange bird. He insisted Anya call him Steve, which was weird in and of itself. She tried, but he was still Captain America, and she slipped up sometimes. Steve stared a lot. Anya knew he was probably just assessing her, the way superheroes and tigers did, but still. It made her feel… Strange. Hot and tingly. She was blushing a lot these days. 

There had been no incidents with animal smugglers or supervillains. The closest they’d come to danger was a cheetah with a toothache that got a little growly when Dr. Sykes tried to examine her. Collin had tripped over a branch in the Malaysian enclosure and sprained his ankle, which was fun to hear him complain about. But otherwise, nothing. Anya half expected the Avengers to up and leave, as there was no threat for them to deal with, but every day, they showed up at the park and followed her and Keri around like shadows.

Unfortunately for Anya, Jim was having none of her crap. She’d managed to get away with one day off a week the past month, and he’d finally put his foot down, forced her to take a three-day-weekend. She wanted to scream.

She’d managed to sleep in on Saturday, get a full six hours of sleep as opposed to her usual four. Then she’d cleaned the house top to bottom, to the point where it smelled like bleach and her knuckles were cracked. When you lived with six zookeepers, things tended to get a bit messy, despite Anya’s neat-freak tendencies.

She’d gone to the farmer’s market Sunday and spent the day meal prepping for the next two weeks. Then she’d cleaned. Again. 

One of her roommates, Claire, who worked with Kathleen in the Animal Ambassador Program, sighed when she walked in and saw Anya on her knees, scrubbing at their kitchen floor. “Anya,” Claire groaned, “you gotta give yourself a break, babe.” 

“This is me giving myself a break,” Anya grunted. The wooden floors were faded with age, but she scrubbed polish into them with single-minded determination. “Watch how I’m relaxing. I’m incredible at it.”

Claire had only rolled her eyes and stolen one of the vegan peanut butter cookies Anya had just baked.

Now, it was Monday, and Anya was going slowly insane. 

She had woken up at five and been unsuccessful at getting herself back to sleep. Then she had taken the dogs for a long, long run around Central Park, and soaked in a bath so hot it turned her skin bright red. She had been coiled tight like a wire the whole time, tense and jittery, fingers drumming against the porcelain bath rim. She’d groomed the dogs after, and they had given her big, sad, puppy eyes the whole time, growling at her when she clipped their nails. Usually, she let Madeline, a veterinarian, do it. Anya couldn’t stand it if the dogs bled.

Everyone else was out of the house. Madeline, Claire, and Lily were at the park (lucky), and Vera was on a day trip to Coney Island with her boyfriend (who they all agreed was a huge asshole). Taylor had gone back to Kansas for his mom’s birthday, and Jasper was having “guy time” with some of the herpetology boys. It was just Anya and the dogs, and she was ready to bash her brains out against the coffee table.

“I need to get a hobby,” she stated decisively, and Eddie, their rescue pug, snorted in his sleep as if in agreement.

She’d already used up all of her volunteer hours for the month at the Humane Society, otherwise, she’d be hard at work right now. She really, really needed to get a hobby. Maybe knitting? She could probably make a blanket or a chew toy or something for the tigers…

Anya jumped to her feet, unsettling Eddie, and Terry the chihuahua, both of whom yipped at her.

“I can’t take this anymore,” she told them, already yanking on her tennis shoes and lacing them up. “I gotta get back to the zoo. I’ll just be a visitor, swear. Won’t try to work or anything.” 

The dogs stared at her, ears perked, and Anya scowled at them. “Watch,” she insisted. “You’ll see. I can do it.”

She could not do it.

Lily was standing near the entrance when Anya bounced into the zoo and rolled her eyes at her. “You’re supposed to be off today!” she called as Anya strolled by, and Anya shot back, “I am! I’m just a visitor! Treat me like a tourist!”

Anya rushed away before Lily could reply. It was oddly warm for November in New York, and the park was as busy as it could get on a Monday. At the sea lion enclosure, Clyde was sunning himself on a rock, basking in both the heat and the admiration from the field trip of high schoolers exclaiming over him and his girlfriends. He barked at Anya when she passed, and she waved at him.

She told herself she would just check in on the animals and head home, but this proved an anxiety-inducing activity. Not because there was anything visibly  _ wrong  _ with the animals, but just because she couldn’t  _ touch them.  _

The cheetahs were playing, the arctic foxes were hiding in their foxholes, the lions were wrestling, and Ivan was dead asleep when Anya made it to the Siberian enclosure. Katya had been clawing at a tree, but she chuffed at Anya when she spotted her through the glass, exciting the family of German tourists next to her. Nikita was fully in estrus now, so was kept in her den in order to minimize the chance of her mating without keeper supervision-- a particularly dangerous activity when it came to tigers.

Everyone seemed fine, which meant there was nothing to do, which meant Anya would be forced home a full _three_ _ hours  _ before an acceptable time to go to sleep. Balls!

Anya made it to six o’clock before storming into Jim’s office. Lexie grinned at her from the reception desk and noted, “You made it longer than I thought you would.” 

“I missed you, too, Lexie,” Anya stopped long enough to stay. “I baked cookies yesterday. I’ll bring you some tomorrow.” 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Jim seemed to be in a meeting with Captain Rogers when Anya burst through the door. Both men looked up at the interruption, Captain Rogers with alarm and Jim with resignation.

“Anya,” he groused. “I thought I ordered you to take the day off.” 

“I am. This is me hanging out at the park on my day off. Hey Capt-- Steve. Hi, Steve.” 

Steve seemed flushed, almost, but he waved a hand at her and said, “Good to see you, Anya. Everything alright?”

“I’m fine,” she replied automatically, “just looking for something to do.  _ Please,  _ Mr. Brehenny?  _ Please. _ ”

Jim dragged a hand down his wrinkled face. “Anya,” he said evenly, “any more unscheduled work hours and you’ll exceed the state’s limit for full-time employment.” 

“You don’t have to pay me. It could be under the table.” 

“That’s  _ illegal,  _ Anya!”

“Then just treat me like a volunteer. Please, Mr. Breheny? I'm dying here. Just cut me some slack, sir!"

Jim let out a lion-level growl and buried his face in his arms for a solid couple of seconds. When he emerged, his cheeks were red. “Fine,” he said slowly. “You can take the Galapagos tortoises for a walk. Take the Captain with you. God knows I need some peace in here so I can get some work done. In my private office. Where I’m supposed to be able to do that.  _ Uninterrupted. _ ” 

Anya beamed and danced forward, smacking a feathery kiss onto Jim’s cheek. He flushed deeper. “Thank you, Jim!” she cried. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 

She practically ran back to Steve, grabbing his arm and towing him out of the Administration Building, hardly realizing that she’d done it, babbling all the way. “I’m kind of a workaholic,” she explained as she pulled him toward the reptile house. “Go sorta crazy on my off-days. Mr. Breheny and Kathleen made me take a three-day weekend. Surprised I didn’t lose it. But now I’m here and we’re good!” She stopped for breath as she buzzed them in with her key card and turned to him, assessing. “I’m good, but are you good? Tell me, are you good?”

There was no denying that Steve Rogers was the most handsome man Anya had ever met. His body alone could have melted her into a pile of goo, but his dark golden hair and deep blue eyes… She flushed just staring at him. He’d grown out his beard since she’d first seen him on TV, back in undergrad, and his ass in the jeans he was wearing was to die for. 

But those eyes she so admired seemed sad more often than not and were ringed by dark circles. And his mouth, while sinfully plush, rarely turned up into a smile. 

“I’m okay,” Steve told her, and she wondered if maybe it was a lie. “Just a little confused. How do you walk a turtle?”

Anya corrected automatically, “Tortoise,” and then explained, “The Galapagos Tortoises can live to about a hundred, but we got ours real young. They outgrew their old enclosure, so we decided to remodel while they’re hibernating in the reptile house base camp. We take a few of them out on the lawn every day so they can get natural sunlight and eat some grass while it's still warm out. Well, usually the interns do it. But that’s me today! And you. Lucky us, huh?” 

“Lucky us,” said Steve, but he was still staring at her with that Captain America intensity. He must be very intense about tortoises. Anya had never been as into them as the herpetology guys were. Maybe it was a guy thing?  


The tortoises were very heavy, usually so heavy that they could only carry them one at a time, but Steve lifted four into one arm with no problem. Anya stared at him, wide-eyed, and he raised a brow.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked anxiously, and Anya hastened to reassure him; “No! I’m just impressed is all. They’re so heavy. We can usually only get two or so out at a time.” 

Steve just shrugged and led the way back outside. Anya added “humble” to her list of Captain America facts. 

There was a baby-gated playpen set up on the main lawn of the park, and this was where Anya had Steve set the tortoises. It was golden hour, and Anya wasn’t the only one who noticed the way it set Steve’s hair to a pure golden fire or the way it highlighted the curves of his muscles in the light blue polo shirt he wore. A titter of excitement rose up from a trio of high school girls pretending to watch the sea lions.

“You sure attract a lot of attention,” Anya noted, and then felt very much like an idiot with no filter (mostly because she was one). 

Steve’s cheeks grew pinker, and Anya mentally kicked herself. He stared stoically at the tortoises, chomping away at the grass, and said, “Funny. I never get used to it. Back when I was a kid I would’ve loved the attention. Now…” He didn’t need to finish.

“The saving-the-world-thing seems a bit more important to me,” Anya finished for him. “Not the celebrity part. Must be weird, having people take pictures of you all the time and scream over you and stuff. I know I wouldn’t like it.” 

Steve’s gaze drifted from the tortoises to Clyde, preening on his rock, and a ghost of a smile drifted across his mouth before he answered, “Makes me feel kinda like an animal in a zoo sometimes.” 

Anya frowned. She was about to launch into a rant on how  _ her  _ animals were  _ perfectly happy thank you very much _ , but something in Steve’s expression stopped her, kept her quiet. This was a miracle for Anya. She could never get herself to stop.

They probably would have stood there in silence for a lot longer if the high school girls hadn’t approached them. They were nervously giggling, one of them very sunburned, all of them wearing matching, field trip t-shirts in neon orange (which clashed horribly with the poor girl’s sunburn). They asked Steve for a picture, and Anya to take it, and after Steve graciously accepted, Anya agreed. Then they tried to pet the tortoises and Anya was less thrilled. Guests weren’t supposed to pet the tortoises.

Just before she left, the sunburned girl turned and flashed a braces-filled smile at Steve. “I’ll be watching the memorial special, Captain America,” she informed him. “I know it’s gonna be awesome! Break a leg!”

The girl dashed away to rejoin her friends, Steve went stone-still, and Anya realized that that hadn’t been the right thing to say.

“I’m guessing you’re not looking forward to the memorial?” she questioned lightly, and Steve shook his head.

The five year anniversary of the Snap was next Friday, an international, unbearable holiday for everyone. Anya had never watched the live broadcast from Washington DC, but her roommates had and so she knew what usually happened: The president would give a speech about bonding through their shared grief and continuing on in honor of those they had loved and lost, there would be a musical tribute to those who had dusted, and finally, one of the Avengers, usually Steve, would give an apologetic but uplifting speech. 

“I wrote my speech last night,” Steve said, almost as if he could read Anya’s thoughts. “I hate it. Nat said it was good. Pepper said it was good. But I hate it. Another apology won’t make things better. Another apology won’t bring everyone back.” 

Pain knifed through Anya’s heart. She brushed it off in favor of surprise that Steve had chosen to share something like that with her (inconsequential, unremarkable, spastic her), and then quickly brushed  _ that  _ off to search for the words that would make him feel better. She couldn’t tell him that no one blamed him, because it simply wasn’t true. Plenty of people did. The Avengers Tower had been vandalized more times than she could count in the last five years. So she said the next best thing:

“You can’t blame yourself for that, Steve. You’re not defined by your failures. You’re not responsible for the Snap. The only person who is was Thanos, and from what I’ve heard, no one person could have stopped him. You’ve got to give yourself a break.” 

Steve’s expression made Anya regret every single word she’d just said. Who the hell was she to tell Captain America what to feel? She had never seen a battlefield before. She had never had to kill someone before. The closest she’d ever come to danger was cleaning up tiger poo. She had no right to give him advice.

But still, she found herself babbling: “And I mean, obviously I don’t know anything. Obviously I’m not, like, Avengers material. And obviously, the situation sucks, but… Well, if anyone can make it better, it’s you. And beating yourself up doesn’t help anyone. In fact, well, I think it kinds hurts all of us? You’re a leader and everything. You can’t be mean to yourself, or other people will be mean to themselves. Right? And no one wants that. Right?”

The sun had started to set by the time Steve replied to her. “Thank you,” he said, with so much honesty in his voice that it made Anya jump about a foot in the air. “I appreciate the advice. Really. It’s nice to be the one getting it and not giving it for a change.”  He grinned at Anya then, a big, toothy, kinda goofy grin that gave her a glimpse into what he’d looked like as an asthmatic kid from Brooklyn back in the forties. “And I’m sure Nat would agree with you. She’s always saying I’m too hard on myself.” The grin shifted into an assessing expression then. He asked, “What will you be doing for Mourning Day?"

Despite the oddly warm weather, Anya suddenly felt very, very cold. She forced a smile that probably looked a little crazy. “Someone’s got to take care of the cats,” she joked lamely. “I’ll be here. I asked.”

Now Steve raised a brow. “You asked to work on Mourning Day?”

Anya shifted, tapping her hands anxiously against her thighs. “I, uh…” She bit her lip, raked a hand harshly through her thick hair. She was very aware of how many times she’d blinked in the minute between statements: Five times. Was that too many times? Did Steve think she was a weirdo? Of course, he thought she was a weirdo. She  _ was  _ a weirdo. “We should take the tortoises back in. It’s starting to get cold.” 

Steve was frowning. “Anya, tell me. You can trust me. What ha--?”

“Let’s get the tortoises inside,” she insisted. “Come on.” 

* * *

Steve couldn’t help himself. He looked her up on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s database.

Anya Barislovski, twenty-seven years old, Ph.D. in wildlife biology from Colorado State University, study abroad semesters in both South Africa and Australia, started a student internship at the Bronx Zoo at twenty-two and had been there ever since. Anya attended an animal activist’s conference in DC every fall, petitioning Congress for stricter laws prohibiting exotic pets, and was considered a foremost expert on big cat zoology. Steve wasn’t at all surprised. Anya may be a bit of a spaz, but no one could deny that she was one hell of a zookeeper.

The only police record he could find on her was a speeding ticket when she was nineteen. She had an older brother in Michigan, Alexander, and had grown up in Long Island. Both parents had dusted during the Snap. Shit.

Steve researched on the way to DC and mulled it over as he prepped for the memorial. Natasha was with him, doing up his black tie for him, and Steve couldn’t help replacing her lithe figure with a softer, smaller one: Anya’s. He imagined it was Anya’s hands brushing against his neck instead of Natasha’s, Anya who stroked his cheek comfortingly and said--

“What’s got your head in the clouds?”   


Steve blinked the daydream out of his eyes and glanced down at Nat, schooling his expression before responding, “Thinking about the speech. Praying I don’t screw up too bad.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “Please,” she scoffed, affectionate irritation pulling at her tired face. “You’re thinking about Anya, aren’t you?” When Steve chose not to answer, she barrelled forth with, “It’s obvious you’re interested in her, bud. Go for it. Ask her out. You can’t play the martyr forever. It’s okay to have some good in your life.” 

Steve’s stomach rolled over in his gut. He stepped back from Natasha, pretending to listen to the president practicing his own speech in the next room over. 

“She’s a civilian,” he said carefully. “And she’s… sweet and soft and… I’m very not that. I’m not normal and I never will be. I can’t… I can’t--  _ infect  _ her like that. She deserves normal.” 

“So do you,” Natasha shot back. Her red silky red brows were furrowed now, shoulders tensed the way they did before a fight. “ _You_ deserve normal, Steve. You deserve the white picket fence, golden retriever, pregnant, barefoot wife, American dream. You deserve some good in your life, Steve. So if you want her,  _ take her _ , before someone else does.”

And damn if Steve couldn’t stop considering the possibilities. 


	3. Snow Leopard Sleeopver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A blizzard leads to a sleepover at the Zoo. Anya and Steve engage in a stupid snowball fight, and a chase through the snow (as well as a jealous encounter at the coffee cart) leads Steve on a chase of his own.

Buzzing with excitement, Anya bounced into the conference room twenty minutes early with a tray of coffees in each mittened hand. 

“There’s snow in the air!” she announced happily, plonking the trays down onto one of the tables. “I can smell it.” 

Jim, Kathleen, Steve, and Natasha had been eating the home-cooked dinner Kathleen had brought them, but all looked up when Anya entered. Jim, predictably, groaned when he saw her and groused, “You’re twenty minutes early. I’m not paying you for twenty extra minutes. Let it be known.”

Kathleen rolled her eyes. “She brought you coffee, Jim. Don’t be an ass.” Then she rose, hugged Anya, and tugged her into the seat next to hers. “Thank you for the coffee, dear. Have you eaten yet? There’s extra lasagna.” 

Anya was pulling off her mittens, but she paused to say, “No, thanks. Madeline and I grabbed vegan enchiladas at that bodega-- with the guy-- the next block over.” Then she sprang back to her feet and started passing out coffees, holding onto an almond milk latte for herself. “Hey, Steve. Hey, Natasha.” They both waved at her, but she was on to the next thought already, saying, “I figured I should grab us all caffeine. It’s gonna be a long night.” 

“Try not to sound too excited about it,” Jim groused, but he seemed content enough with his americano so Anya didn’t pay him any mind.

“I  _ am  _ excited!” she bubbled. “I love sleepovers.”

It was the weekend before Thanksgiving, and New York City was set to have its first blizzard of the season that night. Anya and the other senior keepers always spent the night when there was extreme weather, to make sure the animals and their habitats made it through alright. This time around, the Avengers would be joining them. Anya was more excited than ever.

Following dinner, Anya and the Brehenys showed the Avengers to the staff room they would be sleeping in with Anya and Kerri. There were four plain cots set up. Steve tossed his rucksack and blanket onto one of them with a grin.

Natasha laughed at him. “Feeling at home, old man?” 

“Nothing like a thin army mattress to straighten out your spine.” 

Anya giggled, and the pleased look Steve sent her took her breath away. His eyes were so  _ blue _ and his teeth were so  _ white.  _ She cleared her throat and set her backpack and sleeping bag on her own cot, then took a sip of her latte.

“Not that we’ll be getting much sleep,” she thought out loud. “Or, at least I won’t. I’m going to try and convince Jim to let us take the snow leopards out! They’ll love being in real snow.”

Natasha actually  _ gasped.  _ She positively beamed and clasped her hands under her chin like an excited child. “Snow leopards? Oh, those are my favorite! Can we go see them? Please?”

Anya laughed, hard, and pulled her mittens back on. “Then what are we waiting for?” she teased. “Woman needs her snow leopards. Wanna come, Captain?” 

Steve gave her That Grin again and  _ wow.  _ “Wouldn’t miss it, doll.” 

* * *

The storm had set in as the sun was dipping away for the night. Dark, heavy clouds descended over the Zoo, leaking fluffy white flakes. Anya shivered and pulled the hood of her black parka over her grey, knit beanie. Snow was falling and sticking on all the exhibits, and there was a tangible excitement in the air. A cold, tangible excitement.

Under her breath, she hummed, “ _ It’s the most wonderful time of the year… _ ”

Steve slowed his stride to keep up with her, and leaning down, asked, “So how’s this gonna work? We taking the leopards for a walk around Central Park?”

Anya huffed a laugh which turned to a white puff in the cold. “No. We’ll open up the fence between Himalayan Highlands and the African Plains so they have room to run around.” 

“We goin’ in there with them or what?” Steve rubbed his hands together. They were bare, which was madness in this weather, and he wore only a leather jacket lined with fuzzy white down. Anya felt colder just looking at him. 

She stuffed her mittened hands into her parka pockets. “Yes,” she informed them, and Natasha let out a pleased sound. “Snow leopards are notoriously nonaggressive. There’s actually no recorded snow leopard attacks on humans. Cattle on the other hand…”

“Chomp chomp?” Natasha suggested, and Anya nodded, sad.

Snow leopards were far, far more endangered after the Snap-- along with most of the species on the threatened list before that. The prey population they hunted in the mountains was dwindling, and so they had been forced to hunt cattle. The cattle herders were not happy, and the leopards paid the price for it.

The snow leopards were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when Anya and the Avengers entered their house. Natasha cooed over them immediately, while Steve just stared. He seemed nervous.

“They’ve got a crepuscular activity pattern,” Anya explained. 

Steve blinked at her. “Pretend I have no idea what you just said.” 

“They’re most active around dusk and dawn. Like sharks. Not that they’re aggressive! Or sharks, for that matter. I just mean, um…” She floundered. “They’re just excited. Not about to hurt you or anything. In case you were…” 

Steve chuckled and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m not nervous about the cats, Anya,” he told her, and she shouldn’t have liked the way his tongue curled around her name. “Just cautious. It’s been a month and the Lures haven’t made a move. I’m on edge.” 

Anya tensed. “Oh,” she said and began beating the heel of her boot into the tiled floor. “Oh, yeah. Me too, I guess.” 

And she was, now. Anya hadn’t let herself think too deeply into exactly why the Avengers had been shadowing her every move. Because if she thought too much about Ivan or any of her charges being in danger, she might completely lose it.

The Bronx Zoo received rescues from the Lures near monthly. Anya had seen firsthand the abuse they showered on their “cargo”. She shuddered to think of the cruelty endured by “exotic pets”. Last year, the Zoo received a baby liger from them. The poor thing had been inbred to achieve a massive size, and its heart couldn’t support a body so big. It had died on the examination table, and Anya still wept bitterly at night when she thought of her. Her name had been Amaka.

At eight pm, they let the snow leopards loose into the enclosures. They had opened the gates between African Plains and Himalayan Hills, and it would be difficult rounding the leopards up at the end of the night. But looking at them romp and play in the snow, Anya couldn’t bring herself to care.

Sisters, Nanda and Devi, rolled over each other, bottlebrush tails twisted into knots, yowling in excitement. Natasha ran alongside the youngest female, Makalu, as she romped through the white snow, chomping at the flurries still falling from the sky.

There was a chuffing noise, and Anya felt the alpha male, Kutang, rub himself up against her shins.

“Happy, big guy?” she asked, leaning down and running her mittened hand against his thick, spotted fur. He purred and she felt the sound vibrate up into her palm.

Something cold and hard exploded against her back.

Anya whirled to see Kathleen bent over in laughter, and Steve whistling, cheeks flushed. He seemed all too innocent.

“A snowball fight?” she questioned, brushing slush off of her shoulders. “Really?” 

Steve shrugged, grinning toothily. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” 

“Then allow me to enlighten you, old man.” Anya scowled, bent down, packed snow into a ball, and lobbed it at Steve’s head.

Steve blinked away the snow slipping down his red face. A dangerous-looking grin was taking shape on his mouth. He scooped up handfuls of snow and said, “You really shouldn’t have done that.”

“No,” said Anya with a nervous laugh, “I suppose I shouldn’t have.” 

And then she ran.

She couldn’t help but let loose peals of laughter as she dashed through the exhibit, crossing her arms over her head to shield herself from snowballs. One made an impact against her shoulder and she shrieked. She could hardly hear Steve’s footsteps behind her.

He didn’t sound out of breath at all when he called, “You can run, but you can’t hide, Anya!”

“That won’t stop me from trying!” Anya yelled back and took a hard left toward the rock outcroppings.

Her only advantage was that she knew the terrain better than Steve did; not that she thought that would do much good against the superhero. But maybe, if she had the higher ground, she could figure something out. Sorta like Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Anya cast a furtive glance over her shoulder as she reached the first outcroppings, panting from both exertion and excitement. Steve was nowhere in sight. She was still suspicious, and so she only paused to catch her breath before hoisting herself up on one of the boulders. Her knit mittens were probably snagging on the rock, but she’d just have to deal with it. No way was she going down without a fight.

“Now where do you think you’re going?”

Gentle as could be, a hot hand wrapped around Anya’s flailing calf and tugged her away from the boulder. She let out a startled shriek as she collided with Captain America’s very firm, very broad, very hot chest. He laughed at her, then dumped her into the snow. Anya was laughing along, too.

Until he rolled himself on top of her.

Her breath left her in a great woosh. He had her pinned by the wrists, his knee planted in the snow between her legs. Anya’s hat had fallen off sometime during their tussle, and she could feel the cold wetness of the snow seeping into her dark curls. But with Steve’s face so close to hers, she couldn’t care. He smelled like cinnamon, leather, and a subtle cologne. His eyes were an even more vibrant blue up close.

“Got you, doll,” Steve whispered.

Anya forced herself to chuckle. Despite the snow surrounding them, she felt very, very hot. She was sure her face was bright red. “So you did,” she told him. “What’re you going to do? Shove snow down my sweater, or…” 

Steve’s gaze drifted down to the sweater in question, and to her meager chest. Anya felt her cheeks flush hotter. The air between them was heavy, charged with electricity, and she wondered… Could it maybe… Was there even the slightest possibility-?

The walkie talkie on her belt buzzed.

_ “Basecamp to the African Plains! This is Claire. Emergency! Basecamp to African Plains! Someone pick up!” _

Steve’s weight left her before Anya could blink, and with shaking hands, she unclipped her walkie, fumbling in her mittens. “This is Anya. Claire, what’s your emergency?”

_ “I was checking on the gazelles. We’re missing a fawn! I think one of the junior keepers left her in the African Plains!”  _

Anya dropped her walkie and  _ ran. _

* * *

This was a shit storm of Bad Things That Could Happen at the Zoo. Anya thought she was about to cry. Maybe she was already crying. Or was the wetness on her face just snow? Either way, this was  _ really fucking bad! And that junior keeper was a fucking moron-! _

Anya had watched big cats rip into meat plenty of times, but never a living animal! Never a living, breathing, baby gazelle! Her vegan stomach churned. She was going to barf.

And it was so cold out! Gazelles weren’t meant for cold weather, especially not the babies. Anya hated to think of the frail little fawn shivering in the snow, thin bones ready to snap with each tremble. Oh God. Oh God. Oh  _ God! _

“Anya! Anya, hold on!”

She didn’t slow down, but Steve was faster than she was and caught up to her with ease. “Anya, slow down for a second. Let’s think about this.” 

“No,” she gasped, breath burning in her chest. “No, can’t slow down. Because there is a tiny baby gazelle lost in the snow. And there are also four big cats who are very good at hunting down defenseless animals in the snow--  _ Holy shit!” _

“Anya!” Steve’s hand came to her shoulder and jerked her to a stop. His brows were furrowed but he looked far too calm for their current situation. “You running around by yourself isn’t going to do much good. Take a breath. Make a plan. Do the others know what’s going on? They can corral the cats.” 

“No. No, you’re right. I'm an idiot. Oh my  _ God. _ ” She reached for her empty pockets. “Fuck! I left my--”

Steve handed her the walkie talkie and her soaked beanie. “Let them know. Then we’ll start a perimeter and find the deer. Okay?”

“It’s a gazelle,” Anya whispered. Her hands and voice were shaking as she relayed the situation to the rest of their group. Steve’s hand was still a comforting weight on her shoulder. When she was done, she jammed the (now very damp) beanie onto her head and said, “Let’s go. Let’s go!”

“You are very, very bad under pressure.” 

They set off on a perimeter around the African Plains. Natasha was supposed to be running the other side of the enclosure while Kathleen and Kerri corralled the leopards. Anya insisted they head toward the pen outside of the Gazelle House. The gazelles traveled in a large pack, so likely, the fawn had been left behind somewhere around there. She doubted it would have been able to make it very far on its own.

They scoured the snow, treading carefully to make sure they didn’t accidentally step on the fawn. It felt like hours had passed. The sky had grown very, very dark. Anya thought this was the coldest she’d ever been. Her toes felt like they were about to fall off.

Then, a miracle: “Anya! I found it!”

She raced over to Steve, slipping in the snow. He reached a hand up and steadied her, and together, they crouched down over the fawn.

The poor thing had curled itself into a ball under a scant boulder. It wasn’t moving, limp and lifeless, and Anya felt tears spring to her aching eyes. If its breaths weren’t puffing into the air, she would be worried it had died. 

“Oh,” she whispered. “Oh. Oh, God. We’ve got to get him to the vet’s.” 

She unzipped and wriggled out of her parka, laying it out on the snow before bundling the gazelle into it. Vaguely, she could hear Steve talking into the walkie, telling the others the search was over and to get the vets ready. He helped her to her feet, the gazelle cradled up against her chest.

“There a cart at the Gazelle House?” he asked, arm still over her shoulder.

Anya nodded. “Yeah, the key’s on my belt.” But her arms were full of baby gazelle.

“I’ve got it.” Steve’s hand ghosted against her hip, and Anya felt a jolt of electricity shoot against her skin. She shivered, and Steve paused. “Oh, darn. You’re cold, of course. Here.” He shrugged out of his jacket and folded it over her shoulders. It was warm, and it smelled like him. 

“Thank you. Sorry.” She didn’t know why she was apologizing. “Thank you.” 

Steve flashed her a grin as they climbed into the golf cart. “Anytime, doll. Anytime.”

* * *

She was still wearing his jacket while the fawn was in medical. Her parka was probably ruined; the fawn had pooped all over it, but as long as it was warm, she didn’t care. Steve’s jacket was warm, and it smelled so much like him. She would be more embarrassed to wear it if she weren’t so worried.

Madeline seemed confident the fawn would recover. It wasn’t showing signs of hypothermia, and once it had been bundled up in an electric blanket and fed warm milk, it was slowly starting to perk up again. Anya and Steve kept a vigil anyway.

Steve fell asleep around one in the morning. Anya almost giggled at the sight of him. His gargantuan body looked ridiculous sprawled out in the tiny plastic chair. His head was leaned up against the wall, tilted back, and soft snores were leaking out of his open mouth. Anya almost closed it for him. His mouth would get dry, open like that. 

She found herself yawning, foot tapping rapidly against the floor, and leaped to her feet. Madeline had promised to let them know when the fawn was out of the danger zone, but that could take hours yet. Anya didn’t want to fall asleep. 

She decided to grab some coffee from the cart in the lobby. It wasn’t manned this time of night, but it was unlocked, and she knew if she left some bills on the counter, it’d be okay for her to make something for herself. She’d make something for Steve, too.

For about a year in undergrad, Anya had been a barista. She still knew her way around a coffee shop, so she set herself to making an almond milk latte. She’d make a caramel macchiato for Steve, too. She’d only ever seen him drinking really sugary coffee drinks. They hadn’t had that in the ’40s, and he said that he enjoyed coffee a lot more now than he did back then, when it was strong and bitter as hell. Anya thought it was cute.

“Isn’t this a pretty sight?”

Anya had been bent over the milk fridge, but at that, she jerked up. Collin was leaning against the counter, grinning. He’d probably had a pretty good view of her butt from there. Anya didn’t think she liked that.

“The coffee?” she said because the alternative was too awkward. “I think so.”

Collin’s grin grew wider. He moved around the counter and loomed over her as she steamed the milk. She stiffened. 

Yes, she supposed that Collin was attractive. He was tall and rugged, with a sweep of auburn hair that flopped luxuriously against his forehead, and a smattering of a beard against his harsh jaw. He was tan, with startling white scars across his skin. But he was also often rude and outspoken, snarky and sometimes mean, and Anya didn’t think she liked him very much. She certainly didn’t want to flirt with him.

“Sure. The coffee,” Collin said. He was very close to her now. He smelled like cigarettes and soap. It wasn’t an appetizing combination. “Think I can convince you to make me one?”

“Um, sure.” Anya fumbled with the steamed almond milk, pouring it into a cup and thrusting at his chest. “I just made this. Take it. You’re not allergic to nuts, are you?” 

Collin took the cup, and then grew very, very close to her while he sipped at it. It was probably too hot for that. Anya didn’t know why she thought that right now, with him so close. His chest was practically pressed against hers, and the ridge of the counter was digging into her spine. She was trapped. She hated this feeling, itchy like her skin was boiling the more the world closed in around her. She wanted to run away. Which was ridiculous. Collin wouldn’t hurt her, right?

Before she could find out, he was jerked away from her. Anya felt her lungs fill with air again. She couldn’t stop herself from sighing in relief.

Steve was standing over Collin, hand squeezed tight around his shoulder. The coffee station felt so cramped with all three of them in it. The intensity of Steve’s frown alone heated the space.

“You okay?” he asked.

Collin batted Steve’s hand aside, glowering. “I’d be a lot better if you hadn’t--”

“ _ Anya,  _ are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she answered quickly since she couldn’t justify why she wasn’t. “I’m okay. Let’s go back to the waiting room. Please?”

Steve was glaring at Collin. Anya stepped forward and grabbed his hand, and he looked down at where their skin was touching, seeming to think hard. He relented after a minute and pulled her away from Collin and the coffee station. “Alright,” he said, and then said it again. “Alright.” 

* * *

Anya fell asleep on Steve’s shoulder at four AM. Her head was warm against him, lashes fluttering against freckled cheeks, unable to remain still, even in sleep. She was adorable. Absolutely adorable.

It had taken almost all of his considerable self-control to keep Steve from throwing Collin across the room. He’d been infuriated by the sight: Collin’s height towering and crushing little Anya, her body tense with discomfort. She so obviously hadn’t wanted him that close to her. Had Collin seen that? Had he just not cared? 

If Anya was Steve’s, that wouldn’t have happened. No one would try something like that with Captain America’s girl. They’d know better. They wouldn’t dare mess with her, not with Steve in her corner. She’d never have to be scared like that again.

Steve  _ liked  _ Anya. She was smart and kind and full of life, and so, so sweet. She saw Steve as Steve, not Captain America. She ranted for hours about tigers and wasn’t afraid to correct him when he was wrong. She knew his coffee order, his favorite thing to get for lunch. She asked about his day and his favorite animals. She didn’t fawn over him, didn’t treat him like a soldier or a specimen or a celebrity. She just treated him like her awkward friend Steve.

But he wanted to be more than her friend. He wanted to kiss her and hold her, wanted to take care of her, and take her dancing. He wanted to listen to her talk for hours and hours. He wanted to watch her wake up every morning. He wanted her to fall asleep on his shoulder again.

Steve wanted Anya.

And he decided that he was going to win her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I GOT A JOB!!!! I'm very, very excited, so I decided to celebrate with a new chapter. Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> NOTES ON ACCURACY:  
> Snow leopards are, in fact, the shyest of the big cats! It's true that there has never been a recorded attack against humans, although it's also unfortunately true that cattle herders tend to attack them. A large portion of conservation efforts for snow leopards has been better-educating the cattle industry on how to keep them from eating their herds, without hurting the snow leopards. You can help out by donating to the World Wildlife Fund!  
> Unfortunately, any gazelle left out for hours in a blizzard probably wouldn't survive it, but that was just too sad, so I didn't kill off the fawn.


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